


I Just Can't Do It

by RedScribbler



Category: Persona 3
Genre: Gen, fair warning i have never played p3, so this might be grossly ooc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-29
Updated: 2014-09-29
Packaged: 2018-02-19 07:00:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2379152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedScribbler/pseuds/RedScribbler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Akihiko, in the aftermath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Just Can't Do It

**Author's Note:**

> A tumblr prompt; Akihiko Sanada, "I just can't do it."
> 
> When I got this prompt I knew next to nothing about Persona 3.
> 
> It's a year later now and I'm only marginally more informed.
> 
> soz

The boxing gloves are heavy and make Akihiko’s wrists ache. But he won’t stop. 

Training is important. Being strong is important. He can’t stop now. 

Left jab, right jab, right cross.

Just keep working the bag, don’t think, don’t think of anything, just keep fighting.

The exercise hall is empty apart from him, a small boon he is grateful for. It’s difficult to be around people right now. People are too complicated; too easy to hurt and to be hurt by. Training is simple, cathartic. 

He almost wishes he was fighting a Shadow. Shadows are simple too and right now he would like to be facing something big and fearsome like a Jotun of Blood or even a Minotaur IV, something he could pound away at, heavy, strong flesh to bruise and beat until there was nothing but a bloody pulp left.

At least it would be a distraction. 

But that is what training is for isn’t it? Nothing but a distraction from the reality that Shin-

No! He will not think about that!

Left uppercut, guard, right hook.

Deep breaths, just keep going.

Sometimes members of the team will come to the hall and those are the worst days.

Mitsuru does nothing but criticise, _(this isn’t helping anyone/pushing yourself too hard again/think of no-one but yourself/miss him as well, y’know!)_ Yukari and Fuuka always come together, offering platitudes _(Anything we can get you?/here’s your towel/g-good shot...)_.

Akihiko is fairly certain they are frightened by him and that makes guilt flood through his system, dampening the adrenaline. He is their sempai, he is supposed to be keeping an eye on them not terrorising them After all, isn’t that he asked him to do when he was-

A hard cross to the bag makes it jerk on its chain and for a moment he is worried he has broken it. But it settles back into position and he gives it a half-hearted jab.

The worst days are when Arisato comes. He never says anything; he just sits to the side and stares at Akihiko from under his long bangs while he smacks the equipment around. 

And then, it’s uncanny, when Akihiko goes to take a breather or a sup of water, Arisato will suddenly be behind him and will place a hand on his shoulder. And the very worst part? The look the kid gives him. It isn’t sad or pitying or even worried, but it is so damn understanding that Akihiko can’t even move properly until Arisato turns and walks out the door.

Left jab, right jab.

The gloves are even heavier now and his hands inside are drenched with sweat. And before he can school his thoughts, they turn to the last time his hands were so warm and so sodden.

Blood is heavy as well. Heavy and almost searingly hot as it leaves the body that made it. Or maybe that is just when it is the blood of your best friend.

And that is it. The floodgates of memory and sensation are open and there is no closing them.

Jabs fail to connect and uppercuts have no strength as Akihiko falls to his knees, clutching the punching bag close to him. 

Tears are heavy too, he discovers, and with no strength and no will to fight, he sobs against the beaten material. 

“I’m s-sorry, Shinji...”

He’s too weak.

“S-s-sorry.”

He can’t fight anymore.

“I just can’t do it!”

And in the empty, dark exercise hall, he breaks.


End file.
